


Suburban Streets

by apollothyme



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, High School, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-03
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollothyme/pseuds/apollothyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let’s runaway together and not think twice about it. Let’s travel the world with endless bottles of Coca-Cola littering our dashboard, sleep on cheap motels and watch the stars from the car’s roof at night. Let’s stop in the little towns and the big cities, meet new people and start a new life. Smell the Pacific Ocean and see the Grand Canyon, make mistakes and fix them all afterwards. Let’s leave and never look back. <span class="small">(a fic in which Tony and Steve are high school runaways, and that sentence pretty much says it all now doesn't it).</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks of the size of the universe to my love [Cherry](http://motherfuckinfruitsalad.tumblr.com/) & to [Morgan](http://gr00vymutantshark.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing this big chunk of text.

The thing about life is that you can’t properly describe it. Imagine if someone who doesn’t know what life is asked what it’s all about. Don’t imagine why that person doesn’t know what life is to begin with; simply ponder on your answer. There are very high chances your answer won’t get very far from “going around, breathing and doing stuff”.

And that person might ask you “what kind of stuff?” and then you’ll be left in an awkward silence, because how can you explain to its full capacity every single thing you do as a human? You can’t, or maybe you’re really smart and you can, but chances are, you’ll be stuck in a bother because you do so much stuff, where do you even begin?

You do things you planned, you do things you talked about, you do things you heard were fun to do, but most of all you do really unexpected things. Small things, like running out of coffee and having to hop to the store at 7a.m. in your Star Trek pajamas and the worst case of bed hair, or maybe big things like a new job offer in Thailand, things that simply appear out of thin air. When you’re about to settle in for a comfortable life, something brand new is thrown at you with the force of a cannon ball, and you’re stuck dealing with it. Sometimes you have help from friends and family, sometimes you don’t.

This story is about one of those times; it’s about those unexpected things that happen in life. Most of all though, it’s about a friendship.

-+-

“ _Macho, macho man, I’ve gotta be a macho man”._  Tony groans as he tries to turn down his alarm clock. His eyes are pinched closed against his soft pillow as he waves his arm back and forward; one of these days he’s going to throw away that stupid thing and start sleeping in. Or at least get revenge on Steve for buying him such an annoying piece of electronics in the first place.

“ _Body, it’s so hot, my body”._  Tony slams his hand against the clock with the full force his sleep neglected body can master. Outside his window the offending sun is shining, his neighbor’s exotic birds are chirping and the cars are bustling back and forth. How anyone or anything manages to have so much energy at 7.20a.m completely baffles Tony, but he doesn’t bother to think about it – thinking about why people did what they did always leaves him with a headache.

He dresses sleepily, his eyes only half open as he grabs a white cotton shirt and some tight black jeans. Tony misses his clothes from his rebel years, all black with mixed leather and spikes, although he did have to admit these were much more comfortable. His father hadn’t been okay with the last ones, but the day Tony’s father is okay with something Tony does is the day cucumbers stop being chill and pigs fly. Also Pepper had said the new pants made his ass look better, so that’s always a plus.

The body-sized mirror on his wall shows a sleepy teenager, with bags beneath his eyes and wild dark hair that has never seen a comb in its life. Thin arms, match a thin torso and thin legs, almost a bit effeminate and Tony swears that next week he’s going to start working out like Steve. He makes the same promise every week and he has yet to accomplish it. Except for a couple of random bracelets that Tony has collected over the years he has no other distinguishable accessories; he’s also wearing black All Stars, comfortable  _and_ stylish, though those can’t really be considered accessories. Tony smiles at his reflection, happy to notice aliens haven’t stolen his body yet.

He heads out for the kitchen, his practically weightless backpack already slung over his shoulders. The best part about the last weeks of high school before summer is, in Tony’s honest opinion, the fact that you don’t have to do any shit anymore. The exams are done, nothing more but a past memory now, and ahead of Tony there’s only a road of sunshine paved in gold with his best friend by his side.

Sometimes Tony wonders if he’s too close to Steve. It’s a honest thought to have when your best friend, and practically your only friend, has been the same for the past ten years. Other people certainly think they’re too close to be normal, but Tony was never one to care for the opinions of simple minded high school folk. Steve got him like no one else did, Steve listened to Tony talk about physics he didn’t even understand at 3p.m. and he listened to Tony talking about his father at 3a.m. He was always there for Tony, and Tony was always there for Steve, even when they squabbled.

And even if they were a little bit too close, there was nothing there besides friendship. Steve only cared for him as a friend; he treated Tony like nothing more than a friend and even if Tony sometimes wondered “what if”, in the end there was only close friendship between them.

Tony grabs some toast and runs for the door. His father is already more than gone from the house, though it would surprise Tony greatly if he was actually there. Tony had heard him come home around midnight and then leaving one hour afterwards to do God knows what, but at this point in the game, his father’s neglect for his son and his house’s welfare are nothing new to Tony. As long as he keeps leaving Tony money each month for food and gas for his car, Tony is more than fine with not seeing his father.

The ride to the school is quicker than it usually is, bless for parents who stop bothering to take their kids to school halfway through the year. Steve is already waiting for him by the gate when Tony arrives, his usual smile hanging loosely on his mouth.

“You’re late,” he says, just like he always does.

“No. You’re just early.” Tony replies, and just like that they fall into their usual banter as they walk to class together. They only share a couple of classes since Tony’s schedule focuses more on the sciences while Steve’s focuses on the arts. Nevertheless they walk together to their neighboring lockers every day, and hang out outside classes whenever they can.

The truth is, besides Steve, Tony really doesn’t have many friends. There’s Pepper, but she has her own circle of friends, and except for when she talks to Tony during their most boring classes they don’t share many conversations. Steve is in the same situation, or at least he says he is. Besides James, who he also only talks to during the most boring classes, he doesn’t have any other friends.

Tony can’t help finding this extremely odd; Steve is nice both on the eyes and to the ears. By all the rules of normal social contact he should be able to make friends easily, very much unlike Tony. Sure, Tony could hold a conversation with the most boring man on earth if he tried, but it wouldn’t be real, Tony would get nothing off it except a new-found sense of dullness. Tony didn’t get social contact, he just didn’t; somewhere along the way of him growing up proper social contact disappeared out of his brain, leaving mathematics and mechanical engineering behind.

Not that he’s complaining, not at all. From what Tony can see through media and hallway conversations between hormonal teenagers, having lots of friends is nothing more than an eyesore. Tony is glad to have just Steve, someone to talk to and hang out whenever he wants, someone who he didn’t have to put on a mask and pretend to be normal in front of.

Tony sighs as he opens his locker. The contents of the metal can are a pure mess: books piled on top of other books and magazines, random pieces of clothing which Tony isn’t even sure how they got there, and papers everywhere. If Tony didn’t have a housemaid who came three times a week to clean everything, he’s sure his bedroom would look the same, if not worse, so in the end he guesses himself lucky. Also, Tony has to take everything out by the end of the school year, so there is really no point in cleaning it now.

Steve’s locker on the other hand is the complete opposite of Tony’s, with only a small number of books and all his clothes neatly arranged. It’s like his fairy godmother cleans it every single night until it’s left in an immaculate state. Funny enough, Steve’s room is close to the opposite of immaculate. Sure, Steve tries to clean it and keep everything organized, but in the end there’s always something more important to do at the Rogers’ house, like buying food so the family doesn’t starve or helping little Emily, Steve’s sister who is already in advanced classes, do her homework.

Steve’s mother is a low-class worker, who works every day to put some food on a table for three. It sickens Tony how his Dad has so much money and does nothing about it, and Steve’s family scrap by every single month. But at the same time there’s not much he can do expect sneak Emily some over-priced candy bars once in a while; Steve has this weird complex with people giving him and his family stuff.

“Meet me in the library later, I’ve gotta return a couple of books.” Tony says as he closes his locker. Next to him Steve nods and they each set off on their own separate ways.

They meet by the library as planned, Tony returns his books and Steve takes one out about Art in the seventeenth century. Afterwards they walk together for one of their few shared classes, English with Ms. Robinson. The rest of the day goes by easily like that, just like any other day. Nobody bothers them, because while Steve and Tony might be slightly anti-social with the rest of the world, they go to a big school where it’s easy for two kids to go unnoticed as long as they don’t act up too much. Also Steve has muscles, lots and lots of muscles which he got from his bizarre growth spurt two years ago and from jogging every fucking day. Tony has his brain, although the grey piece of lump in his head didn’t intimidate anyone except the wimpy kids in his advanced classes.

As always Tony offers Steve a ride home, and as always Steve politely refuses it. He says he has to stop by the pharmacy to buy a new set of pills for his little sister, and though Tony would be more than happy to take him there, the other teen simply admonishes that idea. One day Tony was going to get Steve to accept something from him without it being his birthday or Christmas… One day…

The suburban streets around Tony’s BMW are mostly empty, beautifully arranged houses with kept gardens and immaculate walls mix with other beautifully arranged houses. They all look the same in Tony’s opinion, only with slightly different shades of white painting their walls and different garden decorations. It’s a quiet ride, with Tony busting out Human by The Killers alongside his radio as he mentally builds a circuit board for his old coffee robot.

When Tony gets to his house he immediately notices something is different. The usual vacant feeling he gets whenever he arrives is no longer present, nevertheless everything looks the same as always, from his mother’s portrait above the fireplace to the dirty dishes on his sink. His father’s car is gone from the garage, meaning he hasn’t returned home from wherever he ran off to last night but Tony notices a half empty mug of coffee by the kitchen, meaning sometime in the morning he’d stopped by. After some scavenging around the kitchen for eatable food (because while Tony may have the money he needs to buy groceries every week it doesn’t mean he ever remembers to do it) he finds a little note with his father’s hastily scribbled words.

“ _Gone on business trip, be back in a week_.” 

Tony shrugs; at least he had remembered to leave a note this time. Beneath the red wood kitchen counter Tony finds some old Golden Crunch cereal, he doesn’t properly remember the last time he ate Golden Crunch, but as long as there’s no fungus it’s good enough for him.

On his way to his bedroom is when Tony notices the oddest thing he has ever seen in his life. His father’s study, which is always locked, is open. The door is only a couple of inches away from the doorway, but there’s a clear gap between them from where Tony can see the dark red walls covered with leather-bound books. Tony has a moment of doubt: should he go to his bedroom and pretend the door had always been closed, or should he go in?

Because Tony doubts his father, he’s immensely scared of the older man who most people remark as being so like Tony, but who Tony finds to be from practically another dimension. His father is smart just like him, that’s as clear as daylight but while Tony appreciates science and knowledge, his father appreciates money and achieving whatever he wants. After his mother’s death no girlfriend had stuck around for longer than two months, and all his father’s friends are as greedy and immense as Howard is, if not worse.

Regardless, Tony has absolutely no interest in his father’s personal life or who he hangs around as long as he keeps giving Tony enough money to live every month and stays away. What Tony is curious about is how his father has a luxury BMW, four summer houses and a gigantic bank account as a real estate agent, because really, how can Tony not be curious about that? Tony has done his fair share of snooping around without his father knowing, everything the internet could offer ranging from how much the best real estate agents win in a year, their tax rates, to the stock market on Stark Houses.INC, and none of it adds up well.

It’s like a broken puzzle, where a person forces down each piece into a place they don't really belong to. Everything fits in an extreme and brusque manner, leaving Tony with the uneasy feeling that his father has other ways to increase his bank account. Nevertheless up until now Howard Stark has kept all his business carefully hidden in a locked room, where Tony could never touch or question. And now the perfect moment has arrived in front of Tony – his father had probably left the house in a hurry and forgotten to close the door. All Tony has to do to kill his curiosity is step forward.

Tony doesn't think about what he might find –  much less what he's going to do if he really ends up finding something – as he goes inside the study. It's darker than he had seen from the gap; only two windows with the curtains drawn close hang on the only wall without books. The dark carpet floor certainly doesn't help.

There's a huge mahogany desk in front of the windows with some papers scattered on it. There's also a bookshelf with various dossiers labeled 'House Interest 2009' and 'California: Blank Spots', but Tony knows better than that, his father would never leave important information where anyone could see it. He searches for an odd book before he gives the desk any proper attention, his father is a fan of movies from the 60's and for all Tony knows, one of those books has some secret mechanism attached to it that will lead Tony into a secret room where everything illegal is kept. It's a very big shot in the dark, but Tony always thought it’s better to check than be sorry about it later.

Alas, none of the books look particularly mysterious, and Tony isn't going to waste his time pulling out random books until his magic one appears. He turns to the desk – its frame is visibly old, but there are many carvings into the wood with the most complex drawings. It must be incredibly valuable, and it's stuck in a locked room where no one can ever admire it.

Tony expects whatever important information he might be looking for is kept inside one of the many drawers, possibly even a hidden drawer, and he's surprised to find he doesn't need to do anything else but look at the papers scattered on the upper wooden frame to make his big discovery. They're mostly numbers, mismatched words left in between them, and for most people they would probably look like a printer's mistake, but Tony is smarter than most people. They're not errors, they're coded messages.

It doesn't take Tony long to find the key numbers to unravel it, and what Tony unravels makes him sit down in shock, his eyes wide open. He had suspected his father tricked large companies into overly priced buildings, maybe even stole from his clients. He didn't expect Howard Stark to be selling weapons to the bloody Middle East.

Tony checks every paper twice, checks his key numbers to make sure he's got it right and no matter how many times he looks at the numbers, sideways and upside down, they still say the same thing.

"Request - AK-47 - Iraq", "Delivery - hydrogen bombs - Afghanistan", "Request - Missile Expt - Iraq", etc. The list goes on seemingly endless, all the countries Tony can think of and then some more appear at least once in the list, weapons Tony didn't even know existed before appear twice. Tony figures out the numbers next to each batch of weapons are their respective price, but he doesn’t pay them much attention, his headache is already big enough as it is.

Tony sits in silence for long minutes at his father's desk, not knowing what to do or what to think. This is big, way bigger than he had ever dreamed of. This isn't a game, but then again, it never was. A raw instinct in Tony tells him he should turn his father to the police, but what would that achieve? Someone with as much money, and as many connections as his father seems to have probably knows more than one thousand ways of getting out of jail. All it would achieve was Tony's head on a plate. Possibly literally.

" _Shit_ ," he says, because shit seems to be the best word to describe his situation at the moment. Tony's scared, he had always been scared of his father, since the moment his mother died and there was no one left to protect him. But now it's worse, so much worse. What was once a normal instinct of fear of his authoritative father turns into a black hole inside Tony, his father can and will kill him if he ever discovers Tony got inside his study, and Tony doesn't know what to do.

He tries to fruitlessly arrange the papers in the desk just like they were before he read them. His hands are shaking so badly, in the midst of trying to get everything organized Tony knocks down a black ink pen with golden embroiling to the floor, and that’s when he sees it. The last drawer of the desk is slightly open, and even though the last thing Tony wants to do is find out anything else that might put him in more danger, he also can’t resist opening the dammed thing once he notices there are letters inside. Proper letters that people write to each other, wishing happy holidays or relaying the news.

Never in his life, had Tony seen his dad receive any letters like those, and that alone is more than enough to make him forget why Tony should be thinking of running away instead of getting himself further into a mess he can’t get out of.

There are seven letters inside the drawer, they all have different dates and stamps, though the address and the name of the person who sent them is always the same.

_ Maria Freeman; Hollow Street, 33B - Montana. _

Tony stares dumbfounded at the letters for what seems like an eternity, the realization that Freeman was his mother’s single name before she married Howard slowly coming to him. When his brain finally catches up, Tony rips open the first letter he sees. It’s short and the letters are shaky, though the words are still clearly visible. 

“ _October 22 of 2003_

_ Howard please, you can’t do this to me. I want my son, I promise I won’t tell anything to the police. Just please, give me back my son. _ ”

One by one Tony opens and reads all the other letters, they all say the same thing through different words; Maria begging Howard for her son. None of the letters ever show any kind of reply on Howard’s behalf, or explanation of why or how.

To say Tony is confused is the understatement of the year. His mind is frying, each piece of new information that enters his brain must burn its path in; it’s hard for Tony to process anything except his father is selling weapons illegally, and his mother is still alive. Why any of this is real and not just some creepy nightmare is beyond Tony’s grasp.

Many questions are raised in the space of thirty minutes and Tony is left wondering if he really wants the answers. He tries all the other drawers despite the fact that he already feels like he’s about to burst, but they’re all locked. After that the only question left that he can answer is _what the hell is he going to do_?

Tony tries to sit down and evaluate his choices for a bit, but being in his father’s study unnerves him – being in this house unnerves him – because it doesn’t feel like his home anymore. It feels like the place in which a man who he barely knew before, and who is now an obvious criminal and almost a stranger lives and keeps him. Tony might not know much, but he’s smart enough to deduce everything he’s been taking for granted his whole life is a lie.

This uneasy feeling leaves Tony feeling nauseated, like an earthquake had just shaken the whole world and stolen the ground from under him. His house looks claustrophobic, every wall covered in lies, every piece of furniture a reminder of a life that doesn’t seem to belong to him anymore. Tony grabs one letter from the drawer and leaves his father’s study in hurried steps, his future is still a hazy mess in front of him but Tony doesn’t need to know his full plan to know he needs to leave.

Leave the house, leave his father, possibly leave New York, the place he’s lived in his whole life. He grabs an empty bag from beneath his bed and packs everything he deems essential in it: clothes, some food, and all the cash he can find. Tony doesn’t stop to think for one more second about what he’s doing, afraid he’ll change his mind if he does. 

It’s always easier to run away if you just do it – no stopping or questioning or wondering what the fuck are you doing with your life. There’s only action, and in Tony’s case a small stop at the nearest ATM to cash out all his credit cards. Tony turns off his car’s GPS system, mostly out of paranoia as drives to Steve’s home.

Steve’s home is a little house, with chipping white wood on the walls and brown grass on the front yard. It’s in a cheaper part of town that Tony would probably never go into if his best friend didn’t live there, and when passing by it in a car the house resembles all the other cheap houses in the street, looking as boring and vacant. Despite its appearances though, Steve’s home is probably the coziest Tony’s ever been in.

It has this feeling of love to it, Tony can’t explain it but he can feel it. Each piece of furniture has a story, it’s cherished by the simple fact that it’s there, helping the family. Many family portraits hang on the walls, and the dust colored carpet always manages to warm his feet despite the cold from not having any heat radiators. Steve’s bedroom is a tiny room next to the kitchen, and there’s a little window opening to the backyard where Tony likes to climb in every time he visits. He has abnormal visiting hours, mostly due to his lack of knowledge on a proper sleep schedule.

Steve always opens the door – or the window – for him. Sometimes with a bright smile on his face, happy to see his friend stopping by in the middle of a boring afternoon, other times with sleepy eyes and his pajamas hanging loosely on his hips. Regardless, the point remains the same, Steve always greets Tony and that day is no exception.

“Hey Tones, what’s up?” Steve asks casually from where he’s sitting next to his plastic desk. There’s a drawing of Brooklyn in charcoal in front of him, and Tony recognizes he must have been doing homework before Tony got there. Tony doesn’t even notice he’s still shaking, and looking like nothing short of a mad man until the look on Steve’s face deepens and he gets up.

“Tony is everything okay?” he asks as he grabs Tony lightly by the shoulders in hopes of reassuring or maybe comforting him, whatever normal people did to their friends when they were in stress. His touch only makes Tony feel slightly more panicked though.

He’d been running on adrenaline and pure fear until now, he still kind of is, except now Tony’s thinking about things because Steve is asking him about those things and how can he not think about those things when it’s Steve? His brain is not making any sense; nothing is making any sense and if Tony ever felt like the world was crashing around him that moment would have been at it.

“I want to run away. I want you to run away with me. Just grab all your stuff and let’s go.” The words rush out of Tony’s mouth without him even thinking, suddenly there’s a plan inside his head. It’s a very old plan actually, one Steve and Tony have been thinking about since they discovered the wonders of cable TV, and it’s now finally fully coming to Tony. Bits and pieces of information reappearing right in front of his eyes like blinking starlight, ideas complementing ideas, towns Tony’s always dreamed of visiting start to flash again in the reawaken of Tony’s childhood dream.

Run away. Properly run away on a battered old car with his best friend, endless bottles of Coca-Cola littering their dash, sleeping in cheap motels and watching the stars from the car’s roof. Stopping in the little towns and the big cities, meet new people and start a new life. Smell the Pacific Ocean and see the Grand Canyon, make mistakes and fix them all afterwards, leave and never look back. It’s Tony and Steve’s wet dream, and most likely the dream of every other kid with a shitty life. 

Because it’s crystal clear to anybody who bothers to open their eyes that Tony isn’t happy with his life. That he doesn’t like his house or his father or the way things seem to be going for him. The fact that his father is as dirty as a mud bank, and his mother is actually alive is just the last droplets of the waterfall on why Tony wants so desperately to leave.

And Steve wants to leave too. He loves his family with all his heart, and on most days he only has eyes for his little sister, but that’s exactly why he needs to leave. College is looming ahead and Steve can’t afford it, can’t even afford dreaming of it. Nevertheless his mother wants him to go and Steve can’t let her do it. He can’t let her pay for art school when his little, completely brilliant sister has her own future ahead. In Steve’s mind if anyone is going to college, it’s her.

“What, Tony, are you okay? What are you talking about?”

“My dad – I went into his study and I found some papers” he gasps out, “I need to leave, please Steve, come with me.” Tony feels himself nearly crying as he begs his best friend to run away with him, which is _so_ mind blogging because Tony doesn’t cry and he certainly doesn’t beg, it’s almost as crazy as the fact that his mother is still bloody alive. Emotions were never, and are probably never going to be Tony’s strong point, and he refuses to pay any attention to the tears that are starting to sting his eyes and the tone of panic in his voice, choosing to go on the search for an empty bag in Steve’s room for Steve’s clothes instead.

“You want to runway?” Steve finally asks after Tony finds a bag and starts shoving random pieces of clothing in it. His though process freezes ( _something for the cold, something for the heat, pants, socks, something red because Steve likes red and red is nice and -)_ as he turns back to Steve.

“Yes. Like we’ve always dreamed of.” Tony isn’t very sure, but there’s a vacant sense of awareness in him depicting how much he sounds like a psychopath in that moment.

Steve has a moment of doubt, where he looks around in his room and just _sees_. He looks at the baseball poster on top of his bed, at the small closet next to the door where Tony had been taking clothes from only seconds previously, at his tiny lamp that barely manages to light anything. He looks at how little and how much he has to lose if he chooses to follow his slightly mad best friend.

He goes to his bedside table, and takes a little paper note from the bottom drawer. With one of his charcoal pencils he writes down his name and reads the note one more time, leaving it on top of his desk afterwards. Tony only gets a glimpse of the carefully written script, but he reads more than enough to know it’s a goodbye letter.

“Okay. Let’s run away.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, are we really doing this?” Steve asks for what has to be the millionth time. Tony sighs in response for the millionth and one time.

“It’s two a.m.; we’re on the highway with two bags full of money, cash and food. Yes Steve, I think we’re doing this.”

“And are you going to be telling me why we’re doing this anytime soon? I mean, why we’re doing this all of a sudden?” Tony twitched uncomfortably and didn’t reply; next to him Steve has his feet propped up on the car’s dash, and is openly staring at Tony’s face.

“You’ll have to tell me eventually.” Steve says and Tony knows he will. He literally stormed into Steve’s bedroom, asked him to runway and started packing Steve’s clothes before the blonde even replied. In the end Steve had agreed on his own free will, but the fact remained that Tony had just throw Steve’s life upside down and not even bothered to explain why.

“Can I just – later?” He asks, and Steve nods.

 “So, what’s the plan? Where are we sleeping?” And that’s how the mood in their conversation shifts from uncomfortable silence between two unsure friends to  _holy shit - we’re on a road trip with no real plan._

“Well, there’s a motel up ahead. I was thinking we could sleep there tonight and then just, I don’t know, roll with it?” Tony says uncertainly. Steve nods again and turns his attention back to his Rubik’s cube. He had tried sketching earlier to pass the time, but the motions of the car made him feel so nauseated they had had to stop for a couple of minutes for fresh air.

Some distant part of Tony’s brain is aware of how ‘just rolling with it’ is an atrocious idea, and the same brain part is starting to list the numerous things that can go wrong. Ranging from his father coming home earlier and finding out Tony’s gone, to a car crash or even getting stopped by the police.  Tony ignores all these thoughts in favor of focusing on the road, it’s not like worrying and panicking about something out of his hands will ever help him.

They arrive at the motel in less than twenty minutes. It’s a dingy place with neon lights, an empty swimming pool with trash in it and cars that look like they went to hell and then decided to return. Tony checks them in while Steve takes their bags to their room; they leave the car right in front of their window so they can pay attention to it during the night. It’s not a very good car though, one of his dad’s old ones that was just gathering dust in the garage before Tony decided to fix it, and Tony reckons the chances of it being stolen are pretty slim.

The room they’re in only has one double bed. It’s cheaper than the other ones and it isn’t the first time they’ve shared a bed, so Tony saw no problem with it. There’s also a little place where they can put coins in for massages so that’s always nice. It’s scarce of any proper furniture besides a television set smaller than the one in Steve’s house with no remote, one bedside table with a lamp, and the smallest and most disgusting bathroom Tony’s seen in his life.

_ “Do you think there are cockroaches?” he asks Steve in a slightly panicked state. Tony hates cockroaches. _

_ Steve, as the proper best friend he is, only shrugs and walks in to brush his teeth. Tony goes in afterwards on the tip of his toes, casting worried glances at the floor every two seconds. He thinks he sees something brown moving next to the shower stall at some point, and he can’t help screaming like a little girl before he gets a hold of himself, and runs to Steve for help. _

_ They’re in bed around three a.m., the lamp on their bedside table casting delightful shadows all over the ceiling. Bless old lamps with grease marks all over their heads. Tony and Steve entertain themselves by trying to figure out what shape the shadows most resemble. It makes Tony feel so young, like everything’s okay and they’re kids again playing silly games. His body can’t help relaxing as Steve points out one that looks like a human in a weird, metal armor.  _

_ “On scale from one to ten, how bad is what you found out?” Steve asks and Tony can’t help chuckling a bit. One of their teachers in middle school had taught them that when talking about sensitive subjects with people, you should always ask how bad is it before so you avoid making bad judgments about the subject. _

_ “It’s a ten,” he answers. Steve doesn’t say anything and Tony takes it as his queue to start talking. _

_ “He sells weapons – really fucking big weapons - to the middle east,” Tony runs his hand through as his hair as he looks at the shadows above his head and wonders how could he have missed something so big. How could he have missed his father’s illegal and disgusting job.  _ _ How. _

_ “ **Fuck.”**   _ _ Steve says, and before he gets the chance to say anything else Tony gets up and fumbles for the letter inside his bag. He hands it over to Steve without saying a word and waits for his reaction. _

_ “Tony, what does this –“ _

_ “She’s alive. She’s alive and she’s been sending my dad letters like that since the day she left.” Tony puts his hands in front of his eyes and waits for Steve to say something – anything – else. He’s just admitted out loud that his mother is alive for the first time, and it’s overwhelming. It’s more than he can handle, it’s more than he’s ever dreamed of. _

_ When his mother ‘died’ Tony was still too young to even remember her, but he’s heard stories and he’s done his fair share of searching for any kind of information on her. She always sounded like nothing short of an amazing person. Tony’s not sure why she left or why she never returned in all these years, but if the answers are related to his father in anyway, and Tony reckons they definitely are, he doesn’t blame her for any of it. _

“I guess we’re going to Montana then.” Steve says after what seems like an eternity of silence to Tony.

“Huh?” Tony asks. He’s always had the terrible habit of getting lost in his own thoughts when talking to other people.

“The address on this letter is in Montana, so I guess we’re going there.”

“We’ve always talked about moving to Los Angeles or San Francisco though. There’s nothing in Montana,” Tony says and Steve smiles, his usual worry-free smile that sends shivers down Tony’s spine and makes him feel like the world is okay, even if just for a second.

“Your mother is in Montana, so we’re going there. Now let’s go to sleep, I’m driving tomorrow.” And just like that the argument that barely lasted ten seconds is done. Steve turns off the light and closes his eyes, his face turned slightly to Tony’s side.

Tony can’t fall asleep though. The adrenaline has now long left his body, but he’s not at all tired and with Steve asleep by his side Tony’s finally able to think about everything that he’s doing. Most of all, he’s able to think of how his best friend left everything behind for him. Tony isn’t very good at understanding people, but he’s smart, there’s absolutely no doubt in that, and he’s able to read and look at people hard enough to deduce why they do what they do. He doesn’t fully understand the reasoning behind most people’s actions, but he’s usually able to link their basic personality traits to what they do.

To put it in shorter words, Tony doesn’t understand human actions sometimes, but he’s smart enough to reason and extrapolate from them with a rudimentary knowledge of the human mind. And see, usually Tony does this well, he reads and he sees and he thinks, and like the various pieces of an infinite puzzle, everything starts to fit together. But he doesn’t get Steve.

It’s like there’s a list of pros and cons in his head, except they’re not pros and cons at all, they’re reasons why Steve came with Tony when Tony asked, without thinking twice about packing all his stuff in bag. Numerous facts and memories of Steve appear in Tony’s mind: the goodbye letter already written, Steve’s lack of other friends, his strong love for justice and his constant generosity to help others. Some data aligns with the rest, additional just clash and burn together.

Tony stays up until his eyes are so sore even the lights from outside his window hurt his vision, and he reaches the conclusion that Steve is probably the biggest puzzle in his life. He looks at the blonde, now sleeping peacefully by his side and without even noticing he strokes Steve’s hair out of his face. It’s an intimate gesture that seems too personal for friends, but somehow it seems appropriate to Tony.

“Thank you Steve, for everything.” He quietly whispers to his friend, and Steve’s only response is a small snore.

Tony falls asleep his with hand next to Steve’s head.

-+-

“Tony – Tony wake up, I can’t breathe.” Tony shakes his head at the mysterious voice underneath him. He’s quite comfortable where he is right now, thank you very much. He’s on top of a very comfortable pillow, made out of warm and soft lumps and a small beard.

“Tony!” Tony’s head bolts right up as Steve practically shouts into his ears.

“Jesus, I’m awake, I’m awake. No need to shout,” he rolls to the side, but in the glimpse of a second Tony forgets he’s not in his queen sized bed back at home, and ends up falling out of bed.

“Sorry, you were sleeping on top of me and I need to go to the bathroom,” Steve says sheepishly, “Err, are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah, just give me a minute.” Tony rubs his eyes with his right hand as he admires the stained carpet floor. He’s thinking of falling asleep then and there, with the bed sheets still trapped on his legs and Steve showering in the room next to his, but his plan quickly changes once he sees a cockroach strolling casually underneath the bed.

This time Tony does control his urge to scream like a little girl, but only by a little.

They eat breakfast together while sitting on the boot of Tony’s car, snacks from yesterday and two black coffees from the decrepit coffee machine in the lobby. Afterwards they head out towards Montana, this time Steve drives and Tony starts taking down notes of roads they should take and places where they can sleep.

Neither mentions the possibility of Tony’s mom not being in Montana, after all the last letter Tony saw in his dad’s desk dated from two years ago. Neither do they mention the fact that Steve has no missing calls on his cell phone. Tony finds this strange, Steve’s mother looks like the kind of woman who would go berserk if one of her kids ran away like that, but Tony thinks the little note Steve left her must be more than enough to calm her.

They make a small stop for gas in the nearest station, where they also buy more food – including fruit because Steve would find eating properly important even at the end of the world – and just when they’re about to leave Steve stops right in his tracks to stare at two hitchhikers near the road.

“Is that – is that Bruce Banner?” He asks and Tony stops eating his chips to look at the guys Steve is pointing to.

One is tall, broad shoulders and golden hair just like Steve, although his face is more rugged and squared, and he has this dangerous aura to him. The fact that he’s wearing a leather jacket, black biker sunglasses and carrying a backpack full of metal band stickers doesn’t help. He is the complete opposite of what Tony remembered to be Bruce Banner, the tiny geek kid with a heart condition from his science classes, who mysteriously disappeared a couple of months ago. The rumor was it that he got himself a rebel boyfriend and together they took off for the Las Vegas to win their fortune in gambling, or maybe that was the storyline from one of ABBA’s songs. Tony wasn’t very sure, little things like that got mixed up all the time in his head.

The boy standing next to the tall one though, that one is definitely Bruce Banner. Tiny, wearing a dozen hospital bracelets on his wrist and simple white t-shirt, his hair is cut short, an orange bronze color under the sun and is as wild as the prairies of Nevada.

“Let’s give them a ride.” Steve suggests except it’s not really a suggestion since he’s already walking towards them, leaving Tony behind without a second glance.

“What? No wait, Steve!” Tony grabs Steve’s shoulders and forces him to turn around, “We can’t just take them in.”

“Why not? We’ve got empty seats.”

“Well yes, but –“

“No _buts_ , we have the seats, Bruce used to be a friend of yours, they’re coming.” Tony doesn’t get a chance to say how the car is his and he should have a bigger say in the subject, because when it comes to arguing with Steve on something he’s adamant about it’s almost like fighting a wall.

Tony goes to their car and puts the food in the boot. He can see Steve talking to Bruce, who’s smiling shyly at Steve and scratching the back of his head, and the other guy who’s smiling much more broadly and patting Steve’s arm as if they’re good friends. Tony finds himself overcome with an irrational sensation of jealously which he can’t really explain.

“Tony, this is Clint and you already know Bruce. They’re going to San Francisco, so we can give them a ride until Wyoming where they go south and we go north.” Steve says easily when he gets back to the car, and just like that Tony’s offering two almost perfect strangers a ride.

Tony gives Bruce a little nod and shakes Clint’s hand since it’s the only polite thing to do. Both teens (Tony isn’t sure if he can call Clint a teen though, he looks much older than the rest of them, but he also reckons the jacket doesn’t help his case) are only carrying a backpack like Steve and Tony, though they have sleeping bags attached to them.

Steve is the one on the wheel, a mutual agreement between him and Tony that they would change around lunch hour, and he’s also the one leading the conversation. Tony usually isn’t a very quiet person, enjoying the sound of his own voice way too much, blabbering about stuff most people don’t understand, but he’s also not a very big fan of talking to people he doesn’t know about stuff he doesn’t know either.

Sure, he and Bruce were friends before Bruce disappeared, but friendship with Tony is always a different kind of friendship. To Tony, talking to someone during class and comparing notes is friendship at its best and that’s what him and Bruce used to share. Outside Tony’s safe topics for conversation though, Bruce was practically a stranger.

Also Clint bugs him. He just does, the way he walks and talks, the way he moves his hands as he expresses himself, it just bugs Tony. The way he casually touches Steve’s shoulders as if they’re longtime friends doesn’t help either.

“Where are you guys planning on camping tonight?” Clint asks at some point in the drive. Around them empty desert decorates the landscape, the occasional tree coming into view as the burning sun kills all the weeds. Tony thinks that in the grand look on things, having to run away just before summer starts was great. For one you didn’t have to pack many clothes, for two most people simply think they’re all just a couple of teenagers out on an early road trip and for three you can camp out at night without being afraid of chilling your ass off, not that Tony and Steve needed to, with the money Tony had cashed out.

“Camping?” He asks.

“Yeah, camping.” Clint drawls his words as if Tony is a little bit slow.

“We don’t _camp out_ , we stay in motels.” And if Tony releases an annoyed puff in the end of his sentence it truly isn’t his fault.

“Oh,” Clint says and then as a second thought hits him he says it again, “ _Oohhhhh_. Okay, yeah I get it, you two want some privacy. You know sex in open air is pretty great, but I guess the risk of mosquito bites on your bare ass doesn’t really compensate it in the end.”

“What?!” Tony exclaims in a high pitched voice. Steve loses control over the steering wheel, if only for a second, and Bruce who had been distractedly reading a magazine article on gamma radiation blushes furiously.

“Clint, I don’t think they are –“ He begins to say but Tony cuts him off.

“We’re not gay!”

“You aren’t?” Clint asks with a curious look on his face.

“No, we’re just friends.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry then. You just looked…” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Bruce gently grabs his arm and send him a very clear ‘please shut up now’ look. They all sit in awkward science for at least twenty minutes until Steve remembers to ask.

“So, why are you guys going to California?” This gets Clint to enter the longest ramble Tony’s ever heard in his life, including his own rambles about robots.

They're going to California for their technology institute, which has apparently offered Bruce a full scholarship in Nuclear Physics. Clint doesn't have any family, neither does he plan on following any kind of academic engineer, but he knows a guy who knows a guy who can get him a job on an archery range teaching kids and that's more than enough for him. Their plan is to rent an apartment with Clint's salary and Bruce's scholarship money and make the best of it. Clint sounds like a little giddy child travelling to an exotic country for the first time, and although Bruce barely says a word about their grand scheme, Tony catches him smiling and looking at Clint as if Clint was the Sun and he was the Earth in search of a gravity center.

Tony can't help smiling too, their plan sounds crazy, though not as crazy as his and Steve's, and a dozen different things that can go wrong pop up in Tony's head as Clint goes on and on about Bruce's shiny future as a nuclear engineer. And yet, none of them sound the least bit plausible, not with Clint talking with so much enthusiasm about the future. He obviously didn't have a great childhood, which isn't very surprising since Clint had dismissed Steve's question about his family with a careless wave of his hand ("my mom and dad died when I was a kid – no, it's okay, I barely remember them – I was kind of a lone wolf before I met Bruce").

Tony thinks this is the first time he's seen someone talk with so much enthusiasm about something that seems so small and so big at the same time. Probably because he doesn't talk to many people, or maybe because sometimes – sometimes good things have to happen to good people.

They stop for a lunch in a small town in Pennsylvania. One state down, only six left to go. They eat in one of those typical American restaurants, where they serve pancakes 25/7 and there's an apple pie in the counter. They eat happily, with Tony taking a bigger part in the conversation, and Tony offers to pay the bill in the end, because from the look of things Bruce and Clint aren't exactly swimming in money, but Bruce and Clint politely refuse his offer. Apparently they're just as adamant in refusing help from others as Steve.

They're about to get out of town when they see another hitchhiker. This one has long, blonde hair, a short ruffled beard, the build and clothes of a lumberman, and the white smile of a stripper. He looks like he's in his early twenties, definitely college years when one can dress like a hobo and not give a shit about it. In his hands there's a big cardboard sign with the word "WASHINGTON" scribbled in black marker. Tony doesn't have to look at Steve to see that his best friend is making puppy eyes at him.

"No, Steve we can't, we're already full," he tries to say but Steve only dips his head a little lower to make his eyes bigger. Dammit, he's really got that tactic thoroughly figured out.

"Actually, there's still an extra seat." Clint points out, probably trying to be helpful or something equally annoying, and Tony sends him the chilliest death glares he can manage. Bruce doesn't say a word, though he does move his things from the car's middle seat and Tony knows the battle is already lost.

"Fine, but if he kills us all in our sleep, this is totally your fault." he says as he parks the car. Clint scoots in next to Bruce, and the blonde haired man quickly gets in, his smile only getting bigger than before.

"Hello, my friends! I am Adam, and I thank thee very much for the ride." His voice practically booms inside the car, drowning out all other noises.

" _Oh goodie_ , we’ve got ourselves a nutjob now." Tony mutters under his breath as he drives out. Luckily he has a taser in the glove compartment, so if the new guy tries anything funny he can always electrify his balls.

Adam, or as he later informs them, Thor to his friends, is the son of a rich farmer from Texas and he’s on the search for his younger brother, who had run away from home a couple of weeks earlier. Thor had had been educated in Sweden and due to that his English is a bit odd to say the least. He also has contacts all over the place, which explains how he knows his younger brother (Low Key, or something like that), is in the Washington area. His father had been unhappy with his brother’s act of defiance, and even unhappier with Thor leaving to search for him, and that explains why Thor is hitching for a ride instead of flying over.

Everyone immediately falls for Thor’s charms, who laughs and smiles and cheers at everything anyone says, and Tony can’t help falling a little bit too. Sure, Thor’s a weird as fuck lunatic, but he’s a nice weird as fuck lunatic.

In the midst of Thor’s story, Steve and Tony also tell their own without the details. They say Tony found out some dark stuff about his dad, and that his mother is alive after years of Tony thinking she was dead, and that Steve had to leave so his brilliant litter sister could get a proper education.

It’s in the middle of all the talking that Steve also adds he’s planning on finishing high school somewhere on the West coast and then seeking an art scholarship, shocking the hell out of Tony.

“You are? Since when?” Tony whispers to him as Clint and Thor arm wrestle in the back seat.

“Since Clint mentioned Bruce’s scholarship. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been the one paying for everything up until now,” Tony has the decency to blush a little bit; it isn’t like they had bought lots of stuff anyway.

“I need a plan Tony, and this one sounds… _Solid_.”

“So after we find my mom, you’re staying?”

“Yes, are you?” Steve asks and Tony has a small second of doubt where he doesn’t know the answer. He had been trying to ignore the thoughts of what the hell was he going to do after finding his mom, and he still has no idea what the hell he’s going to do about his dad, but Tony doesn’t need to think about this answer if it means staying with Steve.

“Yes.” 

They have one week to go, one week of driving and sleeping God knows where with three strangers who can kill them in their sleep. One week of seeing the American landscape in the craziest, and only, road trip Tony has ever taken. They have one week until Tony’s dad finds out his son his gone and Tony plans to at least make the most of it.


	3. Chapter 3

They drive all afternoon until they stop in Mineral City, Ohio for dinner, but not before Tony and Steve buy two sleeping bags in a sports shop. Apparently Thor is just as adamant on the idea of sleeping outside “where they can be enlighten by the immense beauty of the mesmerizing stars”. Tony isn’t very sure how fucking mesmerizing stars can be, but he isn’t going to sleep in a motel with cockroaches and Steve when his new travel companions slept next to the car; also he could always sleep on the back seat, it’s not like there wasn’t enough space.

Steve doesn’t complain about the idea of sleeping bags, and by the way Tony sees him smirking as he pays for his own bag, he’s probably happy they’re doing it. To say Steve was a little bit more connected to nature and the American roots than Tony was probably the understatement of the year.

They buy some burgers and chips and head off on the road again, wanting to find a quiet place in the middle of nowhere to sleep. Weirdly, the amount of danger they might be putting themselves in by sleeping near the road without any proper protection doesn’t cross Tony’s mind, not even once. As the miles trickle by, more and more of Tony’s past worries and paranoia start to disappear, probably irresponsibly, but Tony doesn’t notice this either.

Thor starts a small fire with only a couple of sticks and two rocks, greatly impressing Tony who always thought that was actually a myth. They eat together, Clint tells ghost stories and everybody laughs instead of getting the least bit scared. Tony ends up telling a story too; he makes everything up as he goes along, a new-found confidence hanging on every word as he tells a story about a boy who got stuck inside a video game and lived forever in pain as he died countless times. Bruce and Clint are actually holding on to each other when Tony finishes talking, Thor is more shocked by the unexpected plot twist than anything else and Steve – he’s looking at Tony as if he has never seen Tony before, his eyes twinkling by the firelight and his mouth slightly agape. Tony stares back, because he doesn’t know what else to do, and because the game of lights playing on Steve’s face from the fire is simply _beautiful_. It isn’t awkward, quite the contrary; it’s intimate and Tony finds that lately he and Steve have been having lots of moments like that.

They go to sleep soon afterwards, a big day of driving in an overstuffed car ahead. Steve sleeps in the back seat with Tony, regardless of the fact that Tony repeatedly insists it’s more than fine for him to sleep outside if he wishes to. They have to cram their legs a bit so they can both fit, and Tony’s head is on a weird angle, but it’s more comfortable than sleeping in a motel with the fear that a bunch of cockroaches will crawl inside his mouth during the night.

The next day is, in Tony’s opinion, the craziest yet. He wakes up with a sore back, sore ribs, sore neck- sore everything that has bones in it. Steve, on the other hand though, wakes up as fine as a daisy, all friendly smiles and “hey Tony, did you sleep well?”. Tony only manages to growl in response. The general lack of coffee and decent food doesn’t seem to help either.

Steve drives with Thor on the passenger seat, as Tony prefers to cradle himself in the back of the car and try to catch a little bit more decent sleep. In the middle of the night Tony had heard a noise, he wasn’t sure what it was, probably a coyote or a bear, and hadn’t been able to go back to a peaceful sleep again. In the past Tony had been able to go days without proper rest, but he found his new runaway adventure to be more tiring that he had expected. Like waking up after months of being in a comma, everything felt so much more intense- the noises, the smells, the colors, the lights.

They eat brunch in a small coffee shop with a red-haired waitress who seems to enchant everybody that comes in contact with her. What Tony notices most about her is her smirk, not even close to being a smile, which she hands over to every male customer that embarrasses himself talking to her. He also can’t help noticing how she looks incredibly bored, and this doesn’t surprise him in the least. Natalie, so said her name tag, is beautiful and could easily make a living off of her face and body alone, but instead she’s stuck in a small town, lost in the midst of thousand other small towns, working as a waitress and serving baboons who don’t know the difference between an atom and a molecule.

Up until now Tony had felt disdain at the possibility of new travel companions, but he’s met with an almost irresistible urge to ask her to run away with them and never look back. He’s pretty sure everyone else at his table wishes to do the same thing, though probably for different reasons, but their car is already full and there’s nothing they can do about it. Unless, of course, Tony drugged Clint and left his comatose body in a ditch. He isn’t very sure of how the others would feel about him doing it though, Bruce certainly wouldn’t be very happy…

As they leave Tony makes sure he’s the last one to get up, slipping an extra note into their check. He isn’t sure, but he thinks Natalie’s smirk increases by one octave as she puts the money into the register, and suddenly Tony doesn’t feel as bad as he did for leaving her behind.

Their plan is to leave immediately after their brunch, but Clint somehow manages to find an archery competition – how he did it completely baffles Tony, their coffee shop had been on the edge of town and Tony didn’t remember seeing any advertisement for it – and telling him “no, we’re already running on a tight schedule” feels like refusing candy to a baby. Also there’s a two hundred dollar prize for whoever wins, so that’s also a nice bonus.

Clint has his own bow, a retractable one made out of shiny plastic, carefully hidden inside his bag. Tony isn’t exactly a very big bow expert, but if he had to guess, he’d say that bow was two times more expensive than his car. How he got it is out of Tony’s grasp, though Tony has the idea that it’s better if he doesn’t know anyway.

The competition is held in a farm, where the targets are haystacks with paper circles attached to them. The other competitors are a mix of farmers and random town’s people; no one looks even remotely as professional as Clint does with his shiny black bow, and special gloves. A pack of arrows is offered to Clint, and he spends some solid twenty minutes meticulously inspecting each and every arrow. Tony and Steve decide to abandon him when Clint asks the hosts of the competition for a scale.

The farm in which they’re in is also the home of the “Ohio’s Most Famous Corn Museum!!!” or so it says on their billboard, and though Tony doesn’t remotely care for corn or anything corn related, he also doesn’t seem to have anything better to do. Even if it’s really boring, Steve is there and nothing is ever extremely boring when they’re together.

The museum holds a various mix of corn sculptures, corn facts, corn paintings, instruments used while obtaining corn, and one of those cardboard scenarios where you stick your head in and take a picture of yourself in a costume. Tony’s phone’s new wallpaper is Steve’s head on a farmer’s body, standing in a field of smiling corn.

“Anthony! Stephen! Where are you?” Thor’s voice booms from the other room. Although Thor prefers to be called by a fake name, he refuses to call other people by different names, insisting on using Stephen and Anthony whenever he has the chance. It’s annoying and somewhat endearing all at the same time. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Tony asks as Thor shows up in the Most Interesting Corn Facts of 2011 room.

“The competition is about to start, it is time that we support our friend!” And by ‘support’ what is actually meant is stand in complete silence behind a fence as Clint hits the tiny red mark in his target every single time. He really is as good as he said he was.

When Clint wins the crowd exploded in cheers, Tony isn’t even sure if all those people had been there before, but he has no time to wonder as confetti starts to rain on top of them. Despite the fact that he’s in the middle of a crowd of strangers, that he can barely hear anything besides cheers and that someone accidentally shoved his ribs, Tony has to admit he is having a good time.

“You know, for a couple of teen runaways, he aren’t exactly very discreet.” Steve whispers into Tony’s ear as they step away from the masses.

“Think of it as an odd road trip instead, works for me.” Tony jokes because odd road trip seems to fit so much better than runaways ever will. Steve laughs, with his head throw back and his eyes closed, and Tony’s not sure if he’s going crazy or something, but in that moment Steve’s laugh sounds like the most refreshing thing on earth.

They end up leaving only minutes after the competition ends, having to make up a bunch of miles for the lost time. In the boot of Tony’s car there’s now a golden, forty centimeters long trophy with an archer statute on it; on the car’s back seat there’s also a very proud blonde, a very happy brunette and a very happy Thor, but Thor is always seems happy so he doesn’t count.

The landscape around them slowly changes, becoming a little bit greener with each passing mile. They drive for hours, no need to stop for lunch since Clint also won enough corn and apple juice to feed a whole family for a month, and Tony finds himself lightly snoring against the window, tiny pieces of warmth lulling his body into sleep.

When he wakes up they’re beside a shallow lake and Steve’s hand is on his shoulders, gently waking him up.

“Wake up sleeping beauty, we’re going skinny dipping.” Steve says as he jumps out of the car, leaving a very disgruntled Tony staring at him.

“… What?” Tony manages to say in the end, though no one hears him. Steve and the others are already standing beside the lake, next to a wooden floor with tiny boats attached to it. Clint seems to be jumping on the heels of his feet, anxious or maybe excited for something, and after a decent while of blankly staring outside, Tony’s brain finally catches up with Steve’s words.

They’re going skinny dipping. In a lake. In the middle of God knows where. Oh, that’s just fucking brilliant.

Tony doesn’t want to go skinny dipping; he doesn’t want to risk drowning in unfiltered water and he certainly doesn’t want to show his privates to the wild life, much less Clint and the others. Tony isn’t a prude, quite the contrary; he’s a rather enthusiastic believer that humans were born naked for a reason. But going skinny dipping is different, sure he’s with friends, but three of those friends he met yesterday and one he has known his whole life. Tony isn’t sure which was worst.

Steve had already seen him naked, of course he had, when they were seven and showing their willies on the playground was the most amusing thing ever. Other than that, Tony can’t remember the last time they’d seen each other naked, and Tony doesn’t know why seeing Steve naked bothered him so much. After all, they are best friends, what’s a couple of mutual dick viewings between close friends?

The only answer Tony can come up with is weird and awkward.

Tony pops every joint in his body before getting out of the car. “I’m not skinny dipping. It’s cold and dangerous and stupid,” he says before he even reaches the others.

“Fine, suit yourself.” Clint carelessly says as he starts to strip. Everyone does the same, and in the space of three blinks of an eye, there are four very naked men in front of Tony running towards a shallow lake. Even Bruce, who is skinny as a bat and for all accounts should be, at least, a little bit embarrassed in showing his body next to Thor – who is a human pile of muscles – seems to be more than fine with dangling his willy against the wind.

Tony stands next to the lake for a couple of seconds until he realizes he’s staring at Steve, and Steve is staring back at him. They’ve been doing lots of staring lately, and it’s starting to make Tony’s inside squirm. The fact that Steve is naked when Tony looks at him, and the fact that Tony finds himself really enjoying the view certainly doesn’t help.

The walk back to the car feels more like a walk of shame than anything else, with Tony looking at his feet and feeling sorry for himself. He’s so busy feeling pathetic and sad for his own silly, little existence, he doesn’t even notice Clint and Thor sneaking up behind him before it’s too late. They grab him and lift him into the air, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, Clint also tries tugging Tony’s shirt off his body.

Tony might not be nearly as strong as the other men, but he’s had enough self-defense lessons to know where to kick (the balls) and where to punch (also the balls). Unfortunately Tony choses the wrong moment to break free- more accurately, he does it too late. Clint and Thor have already dragged him near the lake, and when they finally drop Tony, instead of falling against the hard ground Tony falls into the water.

It’s as wet and cold as he had imagined, if not worse. Tony glares with the power of Mt. Doom at his attackers, who are now giggling like two mad school girls and who have apparently gotten over the kicking and punching in their balls. He’s about to throw a rock at their stupid faces when Steve’s hands gently grab his shoulders.

“Don’t go killing anyone yet, we have nowhere to hide the bodies,” Steve jokes but the words barely register in Tony’s brain, which is instead infinitely aware of how Steve is standing right behind him, naked and wet and shiny against the sun. Tony never had any problems accepting the fact that he is bisexual; the same couldn’t be said about him accepting the fact that he might be bisexual for his best friend.

“I – I won’t, I’ve just gotta…” Tony begins to say as he tries to run away. Steve raises his left eyebrow and gives him a questioning look, but Tony doesn’t answer as he tries to swim to Bruce, who is enjoy himself greatly by observing the marine life.

“Hey Bruce, quick question,” Tony says as he starts to strip from his wet clothes, “were you friends with Clint before you fell in love with him?”

Bruce gives him an odd look, and Tony almost begins to wonder if he has something on his face because odd looks seem to be something many people are giving him today. Not that Bruce’s reaction surprises him much – Tony isn’t exactly the most talkative guy in the car, not yet anyway, and what he is asking isn’t a common question either.

“Sort of, we were friends for about a month before he said I had chocolate on my mouth and kissed me to clean it. Why do you ask?” Tony takes a moment to digest Bruce’s statement of how he and Clint got together, it was certainly a bit… unusual, though Tony didn’t expect anything different from Clint, a guy how seems to enjoy  every day like it is his last.

“Was it weird?” he asks and when Bruce only gives him another look, adds “realizing you liked him?”

“Why should it be? He liked me, I definitely liked him, and there was nothing weird about it. It’s just love Tony, not another equation for you to solve.” Bruce says and it’s so obvious he knows what Tony is thinking about it almost hurts.

They swim around the lake and have a minor water fight for twenty minutes, in which Tony makes the decision to stop thinking about Steve. Or at least stop thinking about liking Steve, because things are so much easier when he doesn’t think about them.

Afterwards, when they’re all dry and Tony’s checked that no one has crazy fungus glued to their skin, they get back on the car. This time Thor is the one driving. Tony sits in the back, and as he avoids thinking about Steve he thinks about his mother instead. He hasn’t thought about her since the first night, not because he stopped caring or anything like that, but exactly for the same reason why he’s avoiding thinking about Steve. It’s much easier to avoid a problem instead of facing it.

Not that his mother is a problem, or maybe she is, though she probably isn’t, but how is Tony supposed to know? She could be awful, she could be a Grinch who gave up on her child and only wants some money from Tony’s father, or she could be the most wonderful person alive. Tony wants to believe that, he so desperately wants to believe that but he’s not a child, he’s not part of a fairytale and he doesn’t allow himself to get his hopes up so blindly like that.

They’re supposed to arrive in Montana in four days. Tony has four days left of wondering what his mother is like until he finally sees her, but most importantly, Tony has four days left of wondering what his plan against his father is. He wishes his father would just leave him, forget Tony’s entire existence and move on; forget he ever had a son. Regardless of the fact that Tony would feel incredibly shitty with himself for acting so cowardly, for not stopping Howard, he wishes nothing more than to be forgotten by the man who raised him.

But that won’t happen, no matter how much he wishes and hopes — that will never happen. His father won’t forget him and Tony has to do something, he just doesn’t know what yet. Another thing he should think about that he won’t, because it’s too complicated and because it’s time for dinner.

They arrive in Muncie around nine p.m., their stomachs growling with hunger as they park in a crowded street. So far this is the biggest city they’ve stopped in, and though Tony grew up in one of the busiest cities of the world, the past couple of days of driving and visiting small towns seemed to erase all his previous knowledge of a big city. He feels like a small town boy who is being blinded by the hard, city lights, and has to take a couple of seconds to pull himself together.

Their small group separates as soon as they can, Bruce and Clint go off together probably to find a cheap motel or something (Tony had seen how giddy Clint was, not that Clint had been trying hard to hide it), Thor goes to a typical Texas bar to enjoy the company of manly men with beards and Steve wants to go to the theatre. Because Steve’s a cultural guy who appreciates doing cultural related things from time to time, and even though Tony doesn’t even know how to care about theatre, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

The play they watch is about the honesty in life, one of those extremely metaphorical ones where there are barely any props and the actors create their own settings as they talk. In the beginning Tony finds himself equally divided by extremely bored and extremely nervous, being in a darkened room with Steve right by his side surprisingly not helping him feel any calmer than he did a couple of hours before. But then the play starts to get more interesting, or maybe Tony’s brain gets tired of making the same pointless questions and assumptions, and Tony gradually gets more immersed in the show in front of him.

When it ends Tony feels better with himself, though he wouldn’t be able to explain why if anyone asked him. He and Steve walk side by side in the damp streets, the yellow light from the lampposts illuminating their path.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Steve says after a couple of quiet minutes. He gives Tony a shy smile, and even though Tony’s probably seen that smile a thousand times before, his stomach lurches anyway. If Tony was a teenage girl, who enjoyed reading romances about sparkly vampires and had a pink diary, he would probably describe it as butterflies in his stomach.

“You’re welcome.” Tony replies and he can’t help smiling too, except there’s nothing shy about the grin on his face. Because Tony’s happy – he is, regardless of the fact that everything he’s ever known was throw to the dogs in less than a week, he’s still happy because he has new friends, not people he can tolerate, actual friends. And he has Steve, like he’s always had and hopefully always will.

Tony was never one for sappy things or huge life realizations, but he’s happy – happy to be alive – and there’s no denying that.

“Oh, damn it.” Steve says, or at least that’s what Tony thinks Steve says. He doesn’t know because one minute he’s busy being happy for himself and the next Steve is a solid weight against him, pushing the air out of Tony’s lungs.

Tony stands there, motionless and with his hands in midair half-stuck between pushing Steve away and pulling him closer, until he finally realizes what Steve’s doing and he closes his eyes. Tony might be smart, but when it came to human actions he always found himself one step behind the pack. Steve doesn’t seem to mind Tony’s delay in kissing back though, moaning appreciatively when Tony opens his mouth for him.

They kiss, or on more accurate terms, make-out like horny gerbils, in the middle of the street for only a couple of seconds before Steve starts walking them back towards a dark alley. If there are people around them they either don’t see them, or they ignore them, either way Tony doesn’t know and doesn’t care.

Steve pushes him against the wall and puts a leg between Tony’s crotch, making all of Tony’s senses spire out of control. Only the tip of Tony’s toes touch the floor, but Steve seems more than okay with holding all of Tony’s weight in his hands. He devours Tony’s mouth, honestly devours it as he licks each piece of skin he can reach, making Tony moan in the back of his throat. When they finally break their kiss Tony is gasping for air, his lips swollen red and his hair already completely ruffled. He’s also hard as rock and embarrassingly leaking in his pants, though Steve doesn’t seem to mind this as he pushes Tony even higher against the wall and starts to mark Tony’s neck.

Tony opens his eyes and looks out the alleyway they’re hiding in. People pass by them, smiling and laughing, completely unaware of the two teens fucking each other brainless under the shadows. It gets Tony even harder, the thought of being caught while having sex, mixed with the idea that maybe someone was watching them from the window of their home turning him on more than it possibly ever should. Tony would rather be called a cock-loving whore by some homophobic assholes on the street than to ever stop this.

He feels like he’s burning inside out, Steve’s rough hands touch so much and yet, so not enough. He begs for more through muffled words, pushes his hips down on Steve’s legs with the little balance he has. Steve obliges him by putting a hand down Tony’s pants, and it only takes one light stroke for Tony to come in heavy gasps. Steve comes only a couple of seconds afterwards, his hand stroking his dick though the fabric of his pants.

They stand against one another, breathing into each other’s lips for a couple of minutes as they slowly get their breath back.

“Please tell me you don’t regret this.” Steve breathes out and Tony smiles a little.

"I don't if you don't."

"I definitely don't." Steve says, a hand stroking Tony's cheek.

"Okay, good then." They smile a little bit more until smiling turns to quietly laughing, and then quietly laughing turns to hysterical laughter that creates tears in the frame of their eyes. Steve has to hold on to Tony to avoid falling, his balance throw off for a second as he yowls like a hyena.

This time people do see them, almost impossible not to with the entire ruckus they’re creating; they give them shifty eyes and turn their noses up as they pass by. It's a reasonable reaction if you ask Tony. He and Steve must look mad, laughing and clinging to each other in a dark alley. And this thought only made Tony laugh even harder, because everything is so fucking weird and yet, it’s also so fucking amazing in every sense of the word. Steve didn't regret melting Tony’s brain, Steve didn't regret kissing him, he didn't regret being with Tony and wasn't that just the best thing Tony could ever hear?

They try to fix their clothes and their hair, and fail miserably at it but at least they manage to hide the stain in their pants, which is good enough for Tony. When they finally get back to their car the others are already there. Ten meters away and it's already more than enough for Clint to point his fingers at them and shout "Ah! I knew it!”

Steve blushes and Tony shrugs, it wasn't like he ever thought they could fool the others. Bruce gives them a quiet congrats and Thor, who is surprisingly only a tiny bit drunk, gives them a big hug. Part of Tony's brain tells him it's all _oh_ so very weird, to be so close and so open to people he barely even knows, but Tony ignores it because nobody ever said life is normal.

They drive for an hour until they're out of the city, parking a little bit closer to the road than usual and falling immediately asleep. Tony sleeps in the car with Steve again, although this time his body is pressed against Steve’s, his face resting on Steve’s chest as his boyfriend’s – yes, Tony had already begun to call him that inside his head – heartbeat lulls him to sleep. It's still not very comfortable and the heat inside the car practically drowns Tony, but it beats sleeping alone and it definitely beats the cockroaches.

Next day is spent solemnly driving, with only a couple of bathroom and food breaks. They have to make up for lost time, having barely done any miles the day before with all the distractions. Tony sits in the passenger seat, his hand resting on the gear stick, with Steve’s hand on top of it. It’s a bit too corny, a bit too lovey-dovey and not exactly something Tony ever imagined himself doing with anyone, but he has to admit the heat of Steve’s hand on his is comforting.

Behind them Clint tries to think of all the gay jokes he possibly can, ignoring the fact that he himself is part of the rainbow group. Bruce enjoys the landscape, laughing quietly whenever Clint says something particularly amusing and Thor texts. Who he texts, the others have no idea, being quickly dismissed by Thor’s large hands whenever they tried to ask.

Whoever it is though, it must be someone important by the amount of attention Thor pays his small phone, never taking his eyes off it. They eat grilled fish for dinner under Steve’s suggestion, much to Tony and Clint’s dismay. Like all the previous nights, they sleep outside by the road, though this time Steve and Tony decide to sleep outside with the others.

Thor starts a fire with his magic skills, which still greatly impress Tony, and this time they even have marshmallows. Steve is a solid weight against Tony’s back, one in which Tony can lean back and simply relax in. It’s a proper camping night, and Tony smiles so much that evening, by the time he goes to sleep his cheeks are in agony. 

Tony thinks of how he’ll miss this, their trip is coming close to an end and soon enough Tony won’t have any more nights where he falls asleep under the stars with his friends. Sure, they’ll all probably see each other again; Tony doesn’t think after spending endless hours in the same closed space with someone he’ll ever forget that person. But who knows when their next reencounter will happen?

Tony shakes those thoughts out of his head, not wanting to spend the night being sad and depressed because his little adventure is almost over. They all fall asleep around five a.m., after a loud singing competition between Clint and Thor that must have scared all the wild animals in a one hundred miles radius.

On the fifth day of their trip Tony wakes up to the blaring sun on top of his head, burning all his brain cells with each passing second. Steve is lying next to him, covered in dust and dirt. Tony’s back feels like it was stepped on by an obese elephant the previous night, and Tony thinks if he was able to move at any pace besides turtle, he would kick Bruce for suggesting they all slept outside.

Alas he can’t, so he settles on glaring with the power of the Gods. Bruce doesn’t show the smallest sign of regret or shame, the little fucker. Everyone else is in the same cheery mood, even Steve who should be complaining the same as Tony but is smiling like a blonde bimbo model instead. This only makes Tony grumpier, but in all honesty, the simple fact that he’s alive without coffee makes him grumpy.

The only good thing is that the person who Thor had been texting the day before reveals himself. Some guy named Kang, who apparently had new information for Thor on the whereabouts of his little brother. The whole thing sounded a bit sketchy if you asked Tony – the guy had practically appeared out of nowhere, claiming he knew information of the utmost importance. Of course, the precise size of the Odinson family’s wealth was still unaware to Tony, so for all he knew, Loki’s disappearance was actually a very big deal.

Either way, Tony didn’t care much. The plan was that they had to stop in a bar near Omaha, where Thor would talk to the guy while Tony and the others got themselves wasted. Simple and effective.

They drive, stop every hour so Tony can stretch (his back is literally killing him) and enjoy themselves. The radio tuned to a Korean pop station Tony had found yesterday, and since they’re constantly repeating the same songs over and over again, everyone ends up memorizing one or two. By the time they reach Omaha, Tony and Clint self-proclaim themselves experts of the Korean language.

When they finally reach the bar where Thor’s supposed to meet Kang, near Big Springs, Tony’s thoughts of distrust come back to him. It’s a very dingy place, with holes in the walls and smoke clouding the air; everyone looks like they’re either crooks or stopped giving a shit about life. Tony and the others carefully sit by the counter as Thor talks to his contact. The fact that even Thor, who is one of the most laid-back guys Tony knows, is worried about being there makes Tony feel even worse.

They’re on the edge of their sits, and thank God for that, because after his second shot of whiskey the guy talking to Thor stands up and starts screaming like a maniacal bastard. Everything happens so quickly, one minute they’re all talking then there’s screaming and then there’s a gun. Thor seems to be going in for a fight, a fight against a gun, and that’s just so fucking stupid but so Thor.

Tony screams for him to run, or at least he thinks he does. By the time the gun is pulled out everyone else is already up too, getting ready for a fight. Steve runs in to drag Thor out as Clint throws beer bottles at everyone that stands too close to them. Bruce looks like he’s about to have a heart attack, and Tony is watching everything motionless, still in shock.

His body doesn’t register how he should run – grab his friends and just _run_ with everything he’s got until he hears the gunshot. Tony doesn’t see who’s been hit, or if anyone’s hit at all, as adrenaline starts pumping viciously through his body. He’s practically deaf in the midst of all the madness, the need for survival drowning out all the noise.

They rush out of the bar and run for their car, Tony allows himself to look back once they’re out the door to make sure everyone’s there. It’s not until Steve has driven for twenty minutes, and the bar is long lost from their review mirror that they stop to breathe.

“What happened back there?” Steve asks. Next to him Clint is holding Bruce’s forehead as the entire content of Bruce’s dinner, and probably lunch too, come flying out. Tony has to look the other way before he vomits too.

“My contact had deceived me. He was asking for money that I had not promised him.” Thor answers, he looks embarrassed with everything that happened and Tony doesn’t really blame him. He would be embarrassed too if he had gotten his friends into a bar fight like that one.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Clint says sarcastically, and Tony is about to snap at him, just for the sake of releasing some anger when Steve grabs his arms.

“Shit – Tony, you’ve been shot!” He shouts and Tony is about to reply that no, no he hasn’t, when he seems the red stain on his shirt. It’s on top of his hip, and even though before Tony had felt more than fine, the pain starts to increase as the panic rises in his body.

“ _Fuck_.” Tony sits down on the ground, leaning against the car. On his right Steve is holding his hand and looking like the world is crashing around him, Thor is not far away calling an ambulance and Bruce is trying to pull himself up so he can check Tony’s wound.

“I don’t think it’s too deep, seems just a scratch.” Bruce says, and Tony has to make a deep effort to listen to him. The word ‘scratch’ registers in his brain, and Tony feels infinitely relieved regardless of the fact that pure white is starting to cloud his vision and all he can feel is an intense burning sensation.

“Steve,” Tony gasps, “You can’t let them know who I am or my dad – my dad will know. Just call me a Jane Doe.”

“Yes yes okay, don’t talk, don’t think about any of that now.” Steve says; he looks so worried, and Tony hates himself for being the one causing that worry. Bruce rips off a sleeve from his shirt and presses it against Tony’s hip. They stay like that for a long time until the ambulance finally arrives.

The sight of the red and white car creates a whole new level of panic inside Tony, the confirmation that he had really been shot only coming with the sound of the siren. They quickly bandage Tony up and inject him with something, and then they’re all already moving again. When they push Tony inside the car Steve almost gets locked out, but he breaks in last minute, lying that he’s close family. Tony’s thankful, being alone is the last thing he wants right now. The others follow closely behind in Tony’s car. 

In the midst of being pushed backwards and forwards by different people, having complete strangers rip off his shirt and examine him, Tony begins to space out. Not, losing-touch-with-reality-and-dying kind of space out, more like I-suddenly-feel-very-tired-and-I-wish-to-close-my-eyes kind of space out. Tony does close his eyes in the end, but he thinks its okay to do so because there’s a soothing voice next to him, whispering that everything’s going to be all right and gently brushing Tony’s hand. Or maybe Tony’s just imagining that part, and there’s no one there at all.

Tony wakes up thousands of hours later. Or at least, that’s how it feels to his body. Everything’s stiff and surprisingly nothing hurts, well, nothing hurts too much. His hip feels like someone kicked it with a metal boot, and his back is stiff as a board, but it had already been that way before. Tony can’t even feel many drugs in his system, so that just adds one thousand points to the mix. He opens his eyes to see Steve right next to his hospital bed, sleeping on a small hospital chair with his neck crammed to the side. Tony stretches his body, and though he needs a couple of minutes to get his hands coordinated with everything else again, he manages to do it quite well. In fact, now that he’s sitting, everything seems to be surprisingly fine with his body, the only evidence of him having any kind of problem being a big white bandage on his hip.

“Steve.” Tony says as he nudges Steve awake with his arm.

“Hum what is it— you’re awake of Tony, thank God.” Tony ignores the fact that Steve isn’t even religious as the blonde gives him a brutal hug. It’s comfortable at first, with Steve’s body practically lying all over Tony, spreading warmness wherever it touches. But then it gets a little bit too much.

“Steve – Steve you’re choking me.” Tony tries to say as he tugs Steve off.

“Oh yeah, sorry shit,” Steve jumps off Tony and nervously starts tugging on his clothes. “You’re okay.” He ends up saying as he cracks his biggest smile and sits down on the chair again.

“Yeah,” Tony says as he smiles too. He’s okay, he got shot and he’s fucking okay. Tony never considered himself very lucky before, but he was quickly reevaluating his thoughts. “What happened? How long was I out?”

“Only a couple of hours. And it was just a scratch; the doctors stitched it pretty quickly, and then drugged you to sleep. You probably won’t even get a decent scar to show for it.” Tony nods. That’s good, that’s very, very good. That’s more than good, _that’s fantastic_.

“The others?” he asks.

“All outside crashing in the car. You scared us shitless man, I‘m pretty sure at one point Thor wanted to shoot himself too for putting you in danger.” Steve jokes and Tony can’t help cracking a laugh too.

“Sorry about that. The doctors?”

“Think we’re brothers from an abused home running away from our shitty parents, at least that’s what I tried playing with. I paid for all your bills and hid all your documents, so we should be good.” Tony nods again. “They also said we could leave once you were up.”

Leaving the hospital is surprisingly quick. With Steve’s help Tony is able to get up and get dressed, firm hands that maybe touch a little bit too much helping Tony put on his Black Sabbath t-shirt. A nurse comes in to make sure he’s fine, and she gives him such a pitying look, Tony almost starts feeling sorry for himself too until he realizes that he’s alive, and breathing, and everyone’s okay, and it’s all very good so there’s really no reason for sadness. When Tony finally gets back to the car Thor knocks the air out his lungs with the a bear crush hug, and this time Tony lets himself be hugged – Thor doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who handles the pain of hurting someone he likes very well. Bruce and Clint give him a hug too, though theirs are much gentler.

They get inside the car and drive in comfortable silence for the first couple of minutes, until Clint thinks of a joke because he’s Clint and he always has a joke, and they’re all back at their usual routine. It’s midday, the scorching sun is hanging above their heads and in less than two hours their little group will have to separate, Bruce and Clint’s destination appearing on the horizon.

Despite the fact that Tony’s going to lose the company of two great friends, Tony doesn’t find himself becoming too sad or upset about it. He knows he’s going to see them again, maybe not tomorrow or the day afterwards, but they aren’t going to stop being friends just because their ugly mugs aren’t shoved down each other’s throats 24/7. Also there’s no point in being sad, if he’s going to say goodbye to his friends in two hours, the least Tony can do is enjoy the hell out of those last minutes.

They eat lunch in a fancier restaurant, having to stop by a gas station beforehand to fix their clothes and hair. It’s ridiculous – they are ridiculous, with their stained clothes and greasy hair, but it’s also nice and terribly charming. Tony orders the weirdest thing he can find, claiming he might as well enjoy life as long as he has it. It’s meant to be a joke, but the others don’t laugh nearly enough and it only seems to get Thor, who had already been feeling a bit sullen, more down. Tony feels bad afterwards, though the feeling quickly dissipates when his grilled octopus arrives.

They eat, and cheer, and laugh and hug. It’s when Clint and Bruce are about to stand near the highway leading to California, with their heavy backpacks on their shoulders and a cardboard piece in their hands, that Thor speaks too.

“My friends, I’ve decided to leave too.” He says with a grave voice.

“What? But we were going to take you to the edge of Montana!” Steve says a little bit outraged, but Tony gets it. Thor’s a prideful guy, he doesn’t let other people just walk over him like that, so far he’d been paying all his meals and doing his share in keeping all his stuff organized, but when he got his friends hurt – when he got Tony hurt, well things just weren’t the same now.

“It’s cool big guy,” Tony says, “but we’re still going to be seeing you around, right?”

Thor gives Tony a small smile, accompanied with a firm nod and Tony knows, this is definitely not the last time he’s going to see the man with a golden beard again.

Steve on the other hand looks a bit more dejected, Tony knows that Steve gets why Thor’s doing it, but it doesn’t mean Steve will hearteningly accept it. “Well, okay then. Good luck finding your brother Thor.”

“Thank you Stephen, good luck with your journey too.”

And that’s how they all go their separate ways. Well, Clint, Bruce and Thor go for the same highway but they’ll soon have to separate again when they reach Utah where Thor will have to go north, and the others will go south. Steve and Tony ride on the highway for Montana all day, until the moon is the only thing visible in the sky and the desert surrounds them.

It’s so different with just the two of them, especially now that they’re together. Tony finds himself becoming more and more aware of how his body is so close to Steve, and if he just stretched his hand he could just… Tony shakes his head as he tries to dissipate his thoughts. He’s not going to give Steve a handjob while Steve is driving their car. He could, but the risk of death wins against the risk of watching Steve’s body come undone because of him. It’s a very close shot though.

They pass the border to Montana at precisely ten p.m., but the car keeps rolling. When they finally park for the night it’s already midnight, meaning tomorrow’s journey is going to be the smallest yet. They’re near a small camping site where the risk of being attacked by wild animals is lessened. Although Tony and Steve can see the camp’s lights from where they’re parked, no one from the camping site can see them due to their high location above the rocks. The night hair is crisper than what they’re used to, and without Thor’s small fire it’s certainly colder, but despite all that Tony is still warm. Probably because Steve’s body is pressed right next to his as they drink a small beer and watch the star filled sky.

Tony’s busy in his own head, thinking of what roads they’re taking tomorrow, when Steve kisses him. It’s just a light kiss on the lips, one they’ve shared a couple of times before already, but it quickly deepens into something more as Steve pushes Tony on top of the car, his commanding side coming out to play. Tony let’s himself be pushed, he lets himself be played and touched and teased as long as it means not stopping.

Steve fumbles kisses all the way down Tony’s neck as he mumbles, “I was thinking, we could do something else, if you want to.”

“Something else?” Tony asks even though he knows fully well what Steve means. He just likes seeing Steve blush.

“Yeah, I mean.” Steve doesn’t elaborate, preferring to take out a small lube tube and a condom from his pocket instead.

“When did you buy that?” Tony asks curiously.

“Err, at the hospital. There was a shop there and—“ He’s blushing furiously now, reminding Tony of a cute tomato, and even though Tony loves seeing Steve like that, Steve’s courage seems to be breaking with each second and Tony definitely doesn’t want that. He kisses Steve, licking behind Steve’s teeth and making Steve squirm against him before saying shamelessly, “Shall you do the honors?” Steve kisses him as a reply, and after that everything seems to run so much more smoothly.

They strip naked and Steve props Tony’s legs on his shoulders. Tony feels so exposed like that, his body bared open for Steve to see and touch. The intimacy is a little bit too much, but then Steve is pressing one carefully lubed finger inside him and Tony has to focus on other things, like the sky and the stars and all the blue, to avoid tensing.

It’s slow, almost painfully slow, with Steve being incredibly delicate about the whole thing. Steve touches a spot inside him, a cord of nerves that sends shivers down Tony’s spine and makes his vision go white for a couple of seconds until Steve does it again and Tony can’t help moaning loudly. Despite the fact that Tony begins to openly moan, not a fiber of shame running through his body, what before had been raw need coming from Steve has now changed to care, and though Tony loves seeing his boyfriend caring about him so much, if Steve doesn’t put his dick on his ass the next second, Tony’s going to do the job for him.

“Steve, just do it, _please_.” Tony begs, and Steve still seems a bit uncertain but the growl Tony sends him easily changes his mind. Steve slips on a condom with a weird ease, and then he’s entering Tony at an excruciating pace, inch by inch until he’s fully inside and the only thing Tony can feel is Steve. Tony takes a couple of seconds to just breathe, keep breathing and keep his blood flowing and Steve is shaking, he’s visibly shaking as he holds Tony’s hips and that’s what makes Tony decide he’s had enough with caring and being gentle.

He pushes himself with what little leverage he has against Steve, making the blonde gasp and quiver inside him. “Tony—” Steve tries to say but Tony cuts him off.

“I’m done with being gentle, just fuck me.” commands Tony with a broken voice. Steve stares at him right in the eye for a fraction of a second before pushing out and fully thrusting inside Tony, hitting Tony’s prostate and making him throw his head back.

From then on everything just escalates. Each thrust is harder and faster than the one before, all Tony can see and feel and touch is Steve, all around him and inside him, burning him and making him shiver under the night air. Only when the sound of him moaning and Steve gasping are the only sounds resonating on his ears, only when Tony feels himself near frantic begging, does Steve take pity on him and grabs Tony’s dick. He strokes firmly a couple of times before Tony comes, spilling on top of Steve’s chest.

Steve waits a couple of seconds, and he’s about to pull back when Tony’s legs slip from his shoulders to his hips to keep Steve locked to him. “No, don’t stop.”

Tony’s ass hurts, his whole body hurts and his chest, the wound on his hip being now a loud complaint but Tony doesn’t care the least bit because it feels so fucking good. This time he barely moves, just stands there and takes each and every one of Steve’s thrusts until Steve comes with a loud groan.

They clean up in less than two seconds, mostly just Steve trying to put some boxers on Tony and cleaning their stomachs. Sleeping this time is a little bit more difficult, Tony not being to find a comfortable position. Luckily the exhaustion does the job for him, and he’s asleep in less than five minutes.

The next day when Tony finally wakes up the sun is already in the top of the sky, and Steve isn’t there. Of course Tony’s brain is still half-working, and that working half is too busy taking in account all the lumps in bruises on Tony’s skin to notice something very big and pinkish is missing. Only when Tony steps out of the car and almost trips on Steve, who was drawing in the ground, does Tony finally notice.

“Oh?” He mumbles, not really forming a question but not really forming a sentence.

“Sorry, you were sleeping like you hadn’t seen a pillow in years so I decided to not you wake.” Steve excuses sheepishly. He doesn’t look sorry at all.

“S’okay, what time is it?”

“Eleven. Shall we get going? I’m hungry.” Steve says and Tony nods. They dress lazily, and when Steve turns to the trees for a quick moment with Mother Nature Tony can’t resist spying on Steve’s notebook. There are the old sketches Tony’s already seen, a mix of bowls of fruit for school and portraits of people walking on the streets, then there are the new ones. Tony has no idea when Steve got the time to draw, but the one with the corn field and the archery competition is definitely new.

Many are simple, normal sketches of the amazing landscape they’ve passed by, the charming little towns and the cozy restaurants. Some sketches of Bruce and Clint relaxing into each other’s arms, one of a bearded guy dancing in a tutu that is certainly Thor, and then many sketches of Tony. Except they aren’t sketches, at least not in Tony’s opinion – they’re pure works of art. Tony sleeping under the sun, his shirt pulled up with a part of his hip showing. Another of Tony laughing next to a small fire, and then one of Tony’s profile staring into the horizon. The list goes on seemingly endless, just sketches and sketches of him. Tony is flipping through the pages at random when it hits him – he’s seen those sketches before. Well, not those sketches exactly, but ones that look quite close. On the first pages of Steve’s notebook, at first Tony had thought it was just another person Steve saw on the street that looked interesting, but with a more thoughtful look tony can see that it’s him.

Tony crashing on top of Steve’s desk. Tony walking with a scarf all around his face and his hands tucked in his pockets. _Tony_.

Steve clears his throat behind him, and Tony almost drops the notebook to the floor as he jumps in surprise. “Shit Steve, I wasn’t spying, you just left it here and –”

“It’s okay, it’s okay Tony.” Steve says, and he doesn’t look bothered at all which is good because he has no reason to be bothered in Tony’s opinion.

Tony kisses Steve sweetly, a gentle brush of lips. “These are really, really good.”

“Thanks.” Steve replies, a shy smile firm on his lips. They spend another couple of minutes just kissing and enjoying themselves before getting inside the car.

Now that he’s so close, Tony’s starting to freak out a little bit about meeting his mother. His brain quietly starts to implode on itself as Tony mentally begins to panic. Because he’s meeting his mother, today, his mother and him. Them, together. Just them. Meeting. Shit.

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asks, a concerned look on his face as he gently takes Tony’s hand. “You know I’m going to be right by your side no matter what happens, right?”

And when Tony looks at Steve, with his bed-hair and ruffled clothes, with a week’s worth of shitty sleep in his eyes and crazy adventures in his bones, with a honest smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes, Tony realizes that yes; he knows that. He isn’t alone, no matter what happens with his mother he isn’t alone and that’s all that matters. Tony smiles, because it’s impossible for him to do anything else.

“Yes, I am.”

-+-

Steve’s hand holding him close is one of the few things keeping Tony from running away like a coward. The other is the fact that Steve’s the one with the car keys.

They’re at his mother’s house, or at least they’re in the place all the letters were supposedly sent from. It’s a little house near the woods, the typical American beauty with a wooden frame and a green ward. Tony could imagine himself growing up there, running out for school with his breakfast in his hands to catch the morning bus. He can imagine himself sitting by the window still, doing his physics homework as SpongeBob plays on the TV. He really can.

The woman who opens the door when Tony finally knocks is wearing simple blue jeans and a pink shirt. She has a friendly smile on her face and despite a couple of wrinkles in the corner of her eyes she still looks young. Tony instantly recognizes her from the photos, his heart beating in his throat as he tries to speak.

“Hello, I’m Tony- ” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as the woman throws herself in Tony’s arms. Tony almost staggers backwards if it weren’t for Steve holding him in place.

“Tony, Tony my baby. _My baby_.” The woman – Maria, starts crying into Tony’s neck as she keeps hugging her son, and Tony doesn’t even realize he’s crying too until his vision starts to get foggy.

Maria invites them in, of course she does, and through tears and babbled words she manages to offer Steven and Tony some tea and scones. She also hugs Steve when he offers to carry the tray with the food, she doesn’t even know who he is but she hugs him anyway, and Steve hugs her back.

They talk for hours, until the sun has set and Steve has to cook dinner because Tony’s too busy hearing Maria explain herself. Not that he minds, Steve’ missed a proper kitchen where he can cook proper food, and Tony needs his explanations. He needs his time alone with the woman who left him when he was a kid.

The answer she gives Steve and Tony surprises neither of them. She always knew about Howard’s dirty business on the side from day one, although back then things were much simpler. When Howard began getting himself involved in heavier stuff, Tony’s mother told him to quit with the threat she would go to the police. Instead of listening to her, Howard sent her away with the warning that if she ever came back, Tony would be the one paying. From then on all of Tony’s questions basically fall into place on their own.

Tony also tells her about him. He tells her about school, about Steve, about his trip, about anything he can think of and then some. Maria doesn’t seem the least bit offended that her son is dating a man; in fact she seems quite proud, saying if Steve went through the USA for Tony he certainly was a good catch.

Around midnight she offers them both a guest room for them to sleep in, and Steve says yes before he can even think about it. Tony’s reaction to a real bed, with pillows and a mattress is so good Steve feels bad about not having filmed it.

“How are you?” Steve asks into Tony’s bed as they lay together.

“I’m good, you?”

“Yeah, I’m good too. She seems… nice.” Tony huffs a small laugh at Steve’s choice words.

“Yes, she does seem quite nice.”

At first they decide to stay at Maria’s house for only a couple of days, in which Tony can get to know her better and they can make a new plan for their future. But a couple of days turns into a week, and a week turns into a month, and one day at dinner Maria simply asks them to for stay for good, at least until college.

Steve wants to say no, because kindness like that never settles well in his heart, but it’s obvious where Tony’s stubbornness comes from as she refuses each and every excuses Steve might try to come up with. Tony is more than happy to stay for as long as he can. So they say yes, and they stay for another year because if Steve got a job now like he was planning, the scholarship he’s been dreaming of might never arrive.

Tony’s dad sends him an email two months after he’s been living with his mom. It’s simple, short and as straight-forward as an email can ever be.

_ “If this is the way you want things to be – then so be it. Just don’t get in my way if you want to see another day.” _

A part of Tony is relieved, knowing him and Steve are safe, another part of him feels completely hopeless and cowardly, but Tony knows that at least for now, keeping quiet is for the best. Tony dreams of the day when he’s as big and powerful as his dad, and he’s finally able to put an end to all the shitty things Howard’s doing to the world.

Thor sends them an email on the 31st of October telling them he’s found his brother. Attached to the small letter is a photo of Thor smiling brightly to the camera, with a small man with black jet hair glaring, only a hint of a smirk on his mouth.

They all end up meeting again – Bruce, Clint, Thor, Steve and Tony – on New Year’s Eve. This time it’s not any kind of crazy adventure where five messed up kids bundle up and travel the States together. It’s simply five friends meeting in a crowded bar, trading stories of their time apart and laughing with each other. It’s wonderful and ridiculous, and it’s the best Tony’s ever felt.

It was just one week, one week where everything in his life was thrown upside down, and Tony doesn’t regret it one bit. 


End file.
